


never look back

by akielon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:06:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akielon/pseuds/akielon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why does it feel like the world’s stealing every single thing that I have?<br/>I only got the air in my chest and even that won’t last</p><p>What do I do here?<br/>What’ll I do if I lose you?</p><p>Sir Sly - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjRTmu3HTdQ">Helpless / Bloodlines, Pt. II</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	never look back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aaronminyxrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaronminyxrd/gifts).



> this is for my wonderful friend pia i love u so much sweetie!!!!  
> talking to u makes me rly happy and I'm rly glad I get to call myself ur friend (its such a privilege)
> 
> I hope u like it!!!! <3333 uvu

One of the perks of having a king as his father was that Akaashi could do whatever he wanted with his free time. And naturally, he chose to spend said time with Kenma.

Akaashi leaned back, relaxing, as he watched Kenma brush his thin hair away from his eyes with his delicate fingers, his gaze never leaving the book he was reading.

He wished he could freeze this moment. Akaashi observed quietly, trying to etch the wonderful sight onto the back of his eyelids. He had always loved the way the sun kissed Kenma’s fair skin and how beautiful his plump lips looked as he read out loud to him.

Time seemed to cease as they just sat there, letting the breeze caress their skin.

It was a habit of theirs to spend hours on end in the palace’s gardens. Akaashi would play his lyre as Kenma read to him. And how the brunet loved Kenma’s voice. His lyre was really no match for it.

As his practised fingers moved to their own accord, filling the air with a soft melody, his eyes traced over Kenma’s silhouette. The chiton he wore hung loosely from his shoulders, his collarbones showing beneath the gold collar. It left Akaashi short of air.

How he yearned to touch Kenma’s smooth skin. To walk over to him and lift his chin, running his thumb over his bottom lip before sealing their distance with a kiss. He wanted to slide his hand over Kenma’s golden hair as he held him close.

But they couldn't. It wasn't allowed. Not where others could see.

“Kenma”.

He raised his cat-like eyes to meet his, a small smile at the corners of his lips. “Hm?” he hummed.

Akaashi set his lyre aside, feeling Kenma’s warm gaze on him. He got up, taking long strides towards the smaller man.

“I love you”. Kenma’s mouth fell open as he nervously looked around to see if anyone had heard Akaashi. Hastily closing his book, he raised from his sitting position, grabbing Akaashi’s hand and dragging him behind as he walked towards the palace.

The walk over to Akaashi’s room – their room – was brief, their hands never separating.

As soon as the door closed behind Akaashi, Kenma’s hands were on the sides of his face, tilting his head slightly down. There was a fervour behind Kenma’s eyes as he lunged forward to meet Akaashi’s lips, standing on the tips of his toes.

Akaashi could never get tired of their kisses. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he focused on matching Kenma’s lips with his own. He brought his hand to Kenma’s chin, lifting it upwards, as he laced his free arm around the other’s waist.

Chest to chest, their tongues danced. The taste of Kenma on his lips was more than enough to drive him insane, and yet he craved more.

His lover’s hands still framed his face as Akaashi clutched to Kenma for dear life. He didn’t know where he ended and Kenma began.

“Keiji-” He breathed, their lips separating. He pressed his forehead to Kenma’s, being unable to open his eyes right away.

Akaashi hummed, tracing over Kenma’s reddened lips with his thumb. He could feel his heartbeat on his throat.

“I love you”. Akaashi leaned back, wanting to look into Kenma’s eyes. His breath hitched as the blond offered him a smile. He was so beautiful.

He felt as if Eros himself had pierced his heart with one of his arrows. His love for Kenma ran through his veins, his heart throbbed for him.

His lips stretched into a smile, his hands raising to cup his lover's cheeks. 

"Stay with me".

"Forever".

 

* * *

 

Akaashi woke up before the sun rose. He had always been an early-riser, even as a child. He couldn't count how many sunrises he had seen in his lifetime, and the beauty of them never seemed to fade.

Kenma however, was a sound sleeper. It was virtually impossible to wake him up before the sun was almost mid-sky. Akaashi didn't mind at all, it was actually incredibly pleasant to hold a sleeping Kenma in his arms, listening to him breathe and watching the stars fade through the windows.

He rested his head on top of Kenma's, who had fallen asleep on Akaashi's chest, inhaling the other's scent. Akaashi couldn't think of a smell that he liked more than Kenma's, a soft lavender mixed with wood. He smelt like home. 

Kenma _was_ home.

He had always been, ever since that day in the woods.

Akaashi had been no more than six years of age when he first encountered Kenma playing by himself near a big oak tree, mumbling as he waved his makeshift toys around. Akaashi wasn't close enough to hear what the smaller boy was saying, so he stepped closer, curious. But Kenma heard him. And in the blink of an eye the boy was gone.

Akaashi looked and looked, running through the forest in circles, never getting too far from the oak, afraid he might get lost. But no sign of the small boy with the strange black and yellow hair.

Looking up at the big oak, he promised: he would find that small boy again.

His father thought his sudden interest in the woods was quite peculiar, but said nothing against it. As soon as he was done with his lessons, he would run down to the woods, slowing down abruptly before entering the small meadow which surrounded the lone oak tree.

Every day he would go with his hopes high of encountering the small boy, and every day he would go home disappointed.

The heat of the summer came and went and still no sign of the enchanting boy. Akaashi liked to see the bright greens of the forest fade, making way for warmer colours. Except for the lone oak. The light green of its leaves never dulled.

He trailed his path everyday, delighting himself on the crunching sound of the leaves beneath his boots. He had started to greet the oak tree as an old friend, talking to it as if it were a person.

His tutors had complained about how much time he spent in the woods, claiming it undermined his studies. His father paid them no attention, saying that it was good for him to have some alone time without having servants fawning over him.

One faithful day, he decided to bring his lyre with him. His routine was the same: he trailed the same path, greeted the big oak and sat down at the same spot on its roots. 

But just as he was readying himself to play, he caught a glimpse of gold in the corner of his eye.

He looked over slowly, trying not to spook the small boy away. Again.

"Hello?" The boy didn't seem to acknowledge him, his eyes were set on the lyre in Akaashi's hands.

He gulped down. "My name is Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji." He thought he saw the boy's eyes flicker to his in a split-second. "What's your name?" 

All Akaashi could hear was the wind rustling through the oak's foliage and the water running in a small creak nearby. He had a million questions on his mind, but he held his tongue. He didn't want to scare the boy.

After a while, Akaashi could feel himself becoming impatient, something he wasn't naturally prone to. All the boy did was stare at the golden lyre that Akaashi held. 

A thought crossed his mind. "Do you want me to play for you?"

This time, gold met green as the two boys stared into each other's eyes. The small boy nodded slightly.

Akaashi could feel his heart in his throat, he had never been this nervous about playing his instrument before.

Taking a deep breath, he played. His fingers ghosted over the small strings, plucking them ever so slightly, filling the air with music.

Everyone said he had a gift, he only needed to hear a music once before being able to perfectly reproduce it, or, in some cases, improve it. His tutors had asked him countless times where he had learned to play so beautifully, but he didn't know how to answer. He just did.

His father had said the lyre was given to him by the gods on his birth, and he had always been drawn to it, even as a toddler. 

As the final notes floated in the air, Akaashi looked over at the boy. He was shorter than him, skinnier too. He wore a light tunic and had no shoes on his feet. Completely different from Akaashi's comfortable leather boots and his purple cape embroidered with gold thread that his maid made him wear every time he stepped outside. 

"Kenma".

Akaashi stared in disbelief. Did the small boy just talk?

"My name is Kenma". Akaashi nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Kenma." He offered his new friend a smile.

A small smile tugged at the corner's of Kenma's lips. "Nice to meet you too, Akaashi Keiji".

 

* * *

 

Time had passed but old habits remained.

Akaashi's shoulders were wider, his jawline more defined and his voice more deep. He was a man now, at least according to his father.

Kenma, however, had grown differently. Not in size - he was still so much smaller than Akaashi - but in elegance. He wasn't a kid any more, dangling members and awkward angles. He was filled with grace now, his movements fluid and swift. His once cute face now stunning and exquisite.

They weren't the same, but their routine was. 

After over sixteen years, Akaashi still trailed the same path his feet had carved on the dirt long ago. They still sat in the roots of the old oak, with Akaashi's music to keep them company.

They shared stories over the tune of the lyre. Akaashi told him of his life in the castle and, in return, he heard about Kenma's childhood. How his mom was a forest nymph, protector of all living creatures that lived in it. Akaashi found out that the lone oak he often saw Kenma talking to, was once, in fact, Kenma's mother. She had turned herself into the majestic tree in grief after Kenma's father had died. 

When Akaashi asked the smaller man if he ever felt alone out there in the middle of the woods, Kenma replied by linking his finger with one of Akaashi's, whispering that he wasn't alone any more. 

It was in the small meadow that Akaashi felt the happiest. It was a place made magical by all the memories it held.

It was the place where Akaashi taught Kenma how to read, where he watched his friend's eyes light up as he devoured sentence after sentence.

It was there that they shared their first hug, their first confession, their first kiss. It was the place where they fell in love.

Akaashi always found it odd that he wasn't interested in girls at all. His friends envied him for the amount of girls, noble or not, that followed him everywhere he went. He was always polite to them, but that was all. He never felt the smallest spark of interest toward any of them. 

They all looked so dull. Girls to him were the complete opposite of Kenma. Not because he was a boy, but because he was the only one who could truly draw Akaashi's attention. Kenma captivated Akaashi's gaze with every small movement of his body, every softly spoken word, every gaze traded. How could Akaashi be interested in anyone else when Kenma existed?

Before he knew it, he was walking down the familiar trail to the woods. It was night time, and he was supposed to be in a party entertaining the royal guests, but he needed to see Kenma. He needed to find out why his heart throbbed whenever he thought about his beautiful friend.

The stars shimmered in the sky when he arrived at the small meadow, the moonlight being the only thing that allowed him to see at all. 

"Kenma?" He whispered, scanning the area.

He heard an owl hooting not far away. He felt goosebumps run down his spine, he had forgotten to bring a jacket.

"Keiji". He turned around at a neck-cracking speed.

"Kenma" He breathed. "You startled me." He stepped forward, raising his hand.

Kenma moved in, locking their fingers together. A habit that had formed a long time ago. So long, they didn't know what had started it.

"Why are you here?".

Akaashi ran his thumb against the back of Kenma's hand, pondering. "I needed to see you".

He met Kenma's golden eyes, seeing curiosity written all over them.

"You couldn't wait until tomorrow?" A sudden draft swept through them, messing up Kenma's hair.

"No." He moved closer, using his free hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind Kenma's ear. Akaashi rested his hand on his face, his thumbing caressing the blond's cheek. "I don't like not being with you".

Kenma looked him dead in the eye, a small hint of a smile on his lips. "I don't like not being with you, either".

They smiled at each other, touching their foreheads together. 

Kenma was so precious to him. He meant the world to Akaashi, how could he have been so blind?

"Kiss me, Kenma." The words slipped away from his mouth before he could catch them.

Kenma moved away slightly, looking deep into his eyes, into his soul. Akaashi felt naked before Kenma's gaze.

In a heartbeat, Kenma's lips were against his, moving.

He melted into the touch, letting out a sigh he didn't know he was holding.

Akaashi moved his hand from Kenma's cheek to his chin, tilting it up. He felt Kenma's fingers running through his hair, pulling him closer.

The brunet pressed his arm against Kenma's waist, crushing them together. Kenma opened his lips with a soft whimper and Akaashi's tongue traced over the other's pink lips.

Kenma broke the kiss first, his breath coming out in pants. They beamed at each other, Kenma stepping closer and resting his head on Akaashi's chest. 

The taller man hugged Kenma tight, kissing the top of his head lovingly.

With Kenma's sweet taste still lingering on his lips he reveled on the electricity that coursed through his body. 

Looking up, he smiled at the stars. He had to thank the gods for allowing Kenma into his life.

It was in the early hours of the morning when Akaashi stumbled through the castle, towing a reluctant Kenma behind him.

"Keiji, please, we mustn't disturb your father." Kenma muttered.

"This is important." He guided them through endless corridors that he knew like the back of his hand.

"He is the _king_. You can't just ask him if he'll allow a complete stranger to move into his castle".

"And I'm the prince." He stopped momentarily, bringing Kenma's hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the smooth skin. "And I'll make him listen to what I have to say".

They resumed their walk, and in no time they were outside the king's chambers. The guards eyed the duo, but let them pass without a word.

"Father? Are you asleep?" Akaashi called out.

"No. In here, son". The king had a pleasant face, with a smile always on his lips. He wasn't as beautiful as his son - Akaashi had inherited his ethereal beauty from his mother - but he carried himself with confidence and ease.

Kenma tried to hide behind the taller man as they entered into the king's study room, where he sat in a small couch reading. Akaashi's father stared at the two of them.

"What is this?"

"Pardon the intrusion. Father, this is Kenma." He nudged Kenma forward, his hand coming to rest on the small of his back.

There was a moment of silence when the king regarded Kenma, who had his eyes glued to the floor.

"Explain yourself, son".

Akaashi took a deep breath, trying to settle his stomach down. "I've come to ask you if you'll allow Kenma to live in the castle. He doesn't have a home, he has lived in the woods all his life".

"I see." The king's eyes moved from Kenma to his son. "Is he the reason you've been sneaking out into the woods for all these years?"

Akaashi laced his fingers with Kenma, squeezing them tight. "Yes".

The king said nothing while his eyes scrutinized the pair that stood before him. Akaashi could feel his heartbeat on his skin. Kenma must have sensed his nervousness, or maybe needed some reassurance himself, because his grip on the brunet's hand grew stronger.

Akaashi's father put down his book with a sigh, signalling for them to take a seat. 

"Do you love him?" His father's voice was stern.

"I do, father." His father nodded.

"Very well. I will allow it. But on one condition." The king rose from his seat, walking over to them and placing his hand on Akaashi's head. "No one must know about you two, my child. They will say you're betraying your royal blood by defiling yourself with other men. They won't allow you to be king".

Akaashi grabbed his father's hand, bringing them to his lips and kissing his signet ring. "I won't bring you dishonour, my king." His eyes gained a new intensity as he looked into his father's eyes. "Thank you".

The king smiled at his son, cupping his cheek affectionately. "You could never bring me dishonour, my child." He bent down to kiss Akaashi's ruffled hair. "You remind me so much of your mother. But now you must go. It is late and we must rest".

Akaashi nodded, getting up. Kenma rose from the small divan too, their hands still linked.

"Not him." The king's dark eyes were on Kenma. "He stays".

"But-"

"Wait outside, Keiji." Kenma's eyes found his. "It won't take long".

Reluctantly, Akaashi left the opulent room, closing the huge doors behind him.

"Kenma, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Your Highness". Kenma bowed his head slightly; he could feel the king's piercing stare on him.

"Tell me," Akaashi's father moved impossibly closer, "do you love my son as much as he loves you?"

Kenma took a deep breath to steady his quick pulse. He looked into the king's eyes. "I do".

The king smiled at him but his eyes remained serious. "Keiji's mother wasn't my queen; she couldn't bear children, you see." Kenma shot an inquisitive look at the older man. "Keiji was born because a muse took pity on us. The queen couldn't give me an heir but our love was never affected." He looked at Kenma, his eyes reaching the depths of his being. "I know what true love feels like, I would sooner die than deprive my son from it".

Kenma stood still as the king reached for his hand, trapping it between his. "Take care of my son, Kenma".

He brought his free hand to rest on top of the king's.

"I will, Your Highness".

 

* * *

 

He felt Kenma start to stir under his chin. Outside the window, the sun tinted the clouded sky with hues of green and gold.

"Comfortable?" he asked. Kenma nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck, a small groan leaving his lips.

Akaashi chuckled, some things never did change.

Kenma shifted, bringing his face to Akaashi's, his eyes still sleepy. The brunet was taken out of breath by his lover's beauty, as always.

"Good morning, my prince." Akaashi placed a small kiss on Kenma's nose.

Akaashi wrapped his arms around Kenma, rolling over and trapping a giggling blond under him. He buried his face on Kenma's neck, peppering the smooth skin with kisses.

Kenma's arms lapped Akaashi's neck, their lips meeting with a soft sigh. Every time they kissed, Akaashi felt as if his heart was outside of his chest, vulnerable. They were bare before each other, their feelings raw and their lips moving.

"I have to go, Keiji." Kenma laid back in the mattress, looking up at Akaashi. "Before-"

"Before anyone sees us, yes I know." He lowered his head to plant another kiss on Kenma's soft lips.

Akaashi plopped down on his back, watching as Kenma leisurely got dressed. His eyes followed Kenma's hands as he put on his white robes, the light fabric hugging his form.

"Kiss me?"

Kenma smiled, moving closer to the bed. He placed a hand on Akaashi's bare chest, leaning in for a small peck. 

"See you soon." Akaashi caressed Kenma's cheek.

"See you soon".

Akaashi laid there for a while, his hands linked behind his head, staring at the ceiling of his room. He didn't really look forward to another day filled with his princely duties, but what had to be done had to be done.

He rose from the bed, meaning to get dressed. 

Akaashi was putting his arm in his jacket's sleeve when he heard a knock on the door. 

"A moment."

He finished making himself look presentable before opening the door. A very dishevelled and panicked servant was on the other side.

"Your Majesty, I-I'm very sorry to disturb you b-but something terrible has happened".

"Calm down." He placed a hand on the small boy's shoulder. "Tell me what happened".

"I-It's your f-friend." Akaashi's heart dropped. "H-He got bit... by a sna-snake." Tears streamed down the little boy's face as he tried to utter out the message. Akaashi's grip on the servant hardened, and he shook him.

"Where?" He demanded, his voice rising with panic. 

"O-on your garden."

Akaashi's mind was blank, he thought of nothing as his legs ran. He ran as fast as his legs could, and then more.  

He was fine. He had to be fine.

He sped through endless hallways and rooms, the castle had never seemed so big. Their garden had never seemed to so far away as now.

Kenma was fine. He knew that.

He ran past servants, nobles, townsfolk, their faces all blurry. If they called out to him, he did not hear.

All that mattered was Kenma.

His precious Kenma.

The gardens opened up to him, the warm sunlight touching his cold, sweat-slicked skin. 

He pushed past bodies, not stopping to apologize, as he desperately tried to find him.

He had to be okay.

A glimpse of gold caught his eyes. He ran faster, his heart beat deeper.

The mass of strangers opened up, making room for him, and there he was. Golden hair on fair skin.

Kenma.

He laid in his father's arms, his head dropping at an uncomfortable angle.

He stopped dead in his tracks, a few feet away from the scene. Everyone seemed to collectively hold their breath.

It was Kenma. But his skin wasn't his. No, Kenma's skin was porcelain-coloured, but it was healthy. A flush always splattered across his cheeks.

But there wasn't any red in Kenma's skin. It was all an ugly shade of white.

Akaashi fell to his knees.

Kenma's lips were pink and vivacious, always ready for a laugh. Always ready to touch Akaashi's own lips and kiss him. 

But now they weren't pink. A pale purple took over the plump lips that he so adored.

Akaashi's lungs collapsed. Kenma had to be okay.

Except that he wasn't.

Everyone was silent as Akaashi's heart broke.

He couldn't speak or think. He couldn't breathe.

Kenma.

His Kenma.

Tears started to blur his vision, but he kept staring at Kenma's emotionless face. Any second now, Kenma would move. He would open his eyes and smile at him like he always does. He would breathe. He would be okay.

"Leave." Akaashi faintly recognized his father's voice.

Everything seemed faded now. Even Kenma. His once bright colours were now dimmed. Even his golden hair had lost some of its shine.

Akaashi passively watched as his own father rose from his knees, carrying a limp Kenma in his arms. He watched as Kenma's hand fell from where it was placed on his lap, motionless and void of any colour.

His father looked at him, his eyes also glazed over with tears, and Akaahi watched as he placed a stone-cold Kenma onto his arms.

Kenma.

His Kenma.

Gone.

He looked so peaceful. As if he were asleep. As if at any moment he would wake up and greet Akaashi with a grumpy look to his face and a cheerful kiss.

But Kenma didn't wake up.

Everything crashed down, his own heart caved in. Everything Akaashi knew was gone. Forever.

His throat hurt. Was he yelling?

He couldn't see anything, he only felt the coldness of Kenma's skin against his own. He felt the absence of a heartbeat beneath his frantic fingers.

He hugged a listless Kenma against him, screaming his pain at the skies. How could anyone allow such a terrible thing to happen?

How could the world steal everything that he had with just one moment? A snake bite, a split-second event, and his entire world had vanished.

His sense of time slipped away as he sat there, cradling Kenma's lifeless face in his hands. Planting kiss after kiss on his cold lips, trying to give him life once again.

Trying to make him smile once again. How was Akaashi supposed to go on without Kenma's smiles? Without him?

His father stood next to him as they sat there for what seemed like an eternity, his heart breaking for his son.

Time passed, and Kenma didn't grow any warmer. 

Akaashi's home was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

They buried Kenma's ashes next to the big oak where they first met. Next to Kenma's mother.

The tree seemed to know about the tragedy that had just occurred, for its leaves immediately began to wither away. Lively greens turning into murky browns in grief.

Life went on.

After the memorial, the palace was struck with silence. No one dared to speak. The loss of such a dear person carved a hole into everyone's hearts.

But joy made its way back into the palace.

Cheerful music filled the great halls again. The servants jabbered with each other on their way to their tasks. The guards whistled as they patrolled the castle. The flower's bloomed on the castle's windows.

Life went on. But Akaashi's didn't.

He locked himself away in his room. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't think.

He laid in his bed, feeling helpless. Kenma's smell still lingered everywhere, torturing him. His eyelids weighed so much, but he dared not close them. He didn't want to see Kenma's cold face again.

Days went by and Akaashi remained in his bed. His will to live was gone. Kenma was gone.

His tears had dried long ago, he had none left to spare.

He had nothing, only the air in his lungs, and even that seemed like it wouldn't last.

Akaashi thought his mind was starting to fail him when he saw a woman standing in the middle of his room. Someone he was sure he had never seen his life, but was somehow familiar.

He didn't speak, he didn't have the strength to. The damage he had done to his throat from all the yelling seemed far from repairable.

She moved to stand by the foot of his bed. She was very beautiful, with her long black hair and her blue eyes. The mole under her mouth complimented her pale skin beautifully.

Still, she was no match for Kenma. No one was.

"Keiji." She spoke.

Her voice was familiar, Akaashi faintly recalled hushed lullabies from his childhood.

"I am so very sorry, my child." She looked so sad.

Tears brimmed Akaashi's eyes once again. This was his mother. His real birth mother. Coming to pay her respects for his loss.

She cried with him as he clutched onto her, hugging him as she hadn't since he was a small child.

She ran her hand over Akaashi's raven black curls, the same colour as hers.

"Keiji." She spoke in a soft voice. "Keiji, look at me".

His eyes met hers, as she placed a warm hand on his cheek.

"Listen very carefully, my son. There might be a way to get your love back".

Akaashi's bloodshot eyes widened. His grip on her clothes tightened, his knuckles white.

"What," He cleared his throat, feeling it scratched. "What do you mean?"

"I will take you to Hades. You must bargain with the unseen. His consort has a kind heart, win him over and you will succeed".

"M-Mother... I don't understand".

She wiped the tears from his eyes, placing both her hands on the sides of his face.

"I wish you the best of luck, my child. Bring him back." She kissed his forehead.

Light burst into the room, hurting Akaashi's eyes. When he opened them again, he didn't recognize where he was.

The light blues of his room were replaced with dark browns. There were no windows here, but the air was cold and heavy. It was hard to breathe.

There was a massive door in front of him, the mahogany carved with gruesome images that gave him chills, tiny goose-bumps sprouting all over his skin.

Akaashi had his lyre in his hands, the gold still shimmering despite the room's lack of light. He could hear a river in the distance.

He wiped the wet trails on his cheeks with the back of his hand. Where was he? His mother had said something about... Hades? Was that where he was? It certainly looked like it.

His hands trembled, the coldness of the room stung in his lungs. He had nowhere to go but forward, through the creepy-looking door. He braced himself, walking towards it. Just as he was a hair's breadth from touching the door, it opened before him, revealing an ample room illuminated by innumerous torches. 

It was a dark chamber, heavily decorated with black and gold statues and obscure paintings. Everywhere Akaashi looked, his eyes were greeted with display after display of wealth. But also flowers. There were flowers everywhere, which was odd. How could such beautiful things survive in such a dark room, with nothing but candle light to help them grow?

He spotted a specific flower he had never seen before; it sat alone in a vase in the middle of the room. It had the form of a narcissus but not its colours: it was not white and yellow like narcissus are; instead it was pure black with splashes of gold here and there. It was beautiful. Akaashi stretched out his hand to touch the delicate petals.

"I wouldn't touch it if I were you".

Akaashi turned around, his eyes landing on fair, sparkling skin and a smile as big as the sun. Flowers bloomed on his skin and adorned his silver-like hair, small lilacs and hyacinths woven neatly in between ashen locks.

"Who are you?" His voice faltered, feeling nervous in the stranger's presence and yet, somehow, he felt less cold by being near him.

"I am Sugawara, the bringer of fruit," his smile was so radiant, his presence lit up the whole room; a beacon of light in the midst of darkness, "and you are Akaashi Keiji, are you not?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, that is me." He fiddled with his lyre; Sugawara seemed nice but he couldn't help but be nervous about this whole situation. 

Sugawara's warm eyes left his, as he brought his hand to caress the oddly coloured flower, a thoughtful expression taking over his face.

"This flower is the only one of its kind." Akaashi's gaze landed on Sugawara's face, he noticed a small smile appearing at the corner his lips. "It was made for me".

"By whom?" Sugawara looked up at him, a grin on his face. 

"My husband, of course." Sugawara placed a hand over his heart, smiling to himself. "I am the god of spring, flowers bloom wherever I go and I know them all." He shifted his gaze to the small vase. "He wanted to give me a flower I had never seen before. That's when I knew that I loved him," Sugawara looked at him "as much as you love Kenma".

Akaashi felt a pang in his chest. "How do you-"

"Know about Kenma?" Sugawara chuckled. "Child, I am a god. I know about your love for him and I know about his love for you." He placed a comforting hand on Akaashi's shoulder. "I also know why you are here".

"I don't know why I am here." He admitted.

"I think you do." The grey-haired man smiled softly at him, nudging him forward. "Now come, my husband is waiting".

Akaashi hesitated.

"Trust me." Sugawara offered him a smile.

Akaashi let himself be lead into a room even bigger than the previous, its opulence putting his father's castle to shame. Sugawara left his side, motioning him to wait where he was. He didn't move a muscle.

Akaashi didn't understand what was going on, why had his mother sent him to this place? He just wanted to go back to his room where he would lay in his bed, refusing to eat, refusing to let go. He wanted to mourn in peace.

Movement caught his eye in the far end of the chamber: Sugawara was back. And he brought someone along with him. He was not much taller than Sugawara, but he seemed bigger; his presence took up a lot more space. He was broad where Sugawara was slim, his hair was short and black, much unlike Sugawara's soft grey locks. The stranger was dressed in all black, the dark leather he wore contrasting heavily with Suga's delicate silks.

Akaashi found himself apprehensive.

"So this is the lyre player." Akaashi found no malice in the dark brown eyes that stared at him, only a hint of curiosity. "I hear your skills rival with Apolo's own," the stranger shifted his eyes to his companion for a moment, "is this true?"

"You're so rude!" Much to Akaashi's alarm, Sugawara punched the taller man in the arm. "At least introduce yourself to Akaashi!"

"You know, if I didn't love you so much I would have you executed for touching the Ruler of Hell." He chuckled, planting a kiss in Sugawara's cheek. Sugawara went slightly pink as the brunet's eyes met Akaashi's again. "I am Sawamura, but you might know me as Hades".

Akaashi's clutch on the lyre grew tighter, as he heard his heart pounding in his ears. Everything sank in at once. His mother had sent him to the Underworld to bargain for Kenma's soul. He had to convince Hades to give him Kenma. How on earth was he going to do that?

"I'm," Akaashi gulped, "Akaashi Keiji. I am here for Kenma".

"He doesn't beat around the bush, does he?" Sawamura smirked, going to sit by the big golden throne. Sugawara sat next to Sawamura; their thrones were alike, but Sugawara's was filled with flowers, as expected.

"Will you let Kenma's soul go?" Akaashi didn't hesitate; for Kenma, he would do anything.

"Listen, no matter how big you are up there, you can't just waltz in here and expect me to release a soul as you please. That's not how things are done." His voice was stern.

"Please," he knelt down, bowing his head, "I'll do anything".

"Aren't you listening to me? Are you deaf? I said-"

"Daichi." Sugawara touched the god's face, gently turning his head to meet his gaze. "My love, look at him. He is filled with so much grief he has no worries for his own welfare, he cares only to get his lover back." He cupped the side of Sawamura's face with both of his hands. "You would do the same for me, and I for you".

Sugawara has a kind heart. Just like Akaashi's mother had said.

"Koushi..." Sawamura's lips heaved out a sigh.

"He will prove himself worthy. Trust me, will you?" Sugawara offered him a tentative smile, his fair fingers stroking his lover's cheeks.

Akaashi held his breath.

Sawamura smiled. "How could I not." His tanned hands moved to grab Sugawara's, lowering them so he could kiss them. When he was done, he looked back at Akaashi, his eyes probing. "Very well, prove yourself. Play for us".

Akaashi felt his breath quiver, anxiety threatening to take over him. He would not allow it; Kenma was far too important for that. He would play better than he had ever played, better than the muses, better than Apolo, and he would bring Kenma back.

His chest rose and fell, steadying his rapid pulse. He brought the lyre into position, his fingertips pressing the sturdy strings. And suddenly they were flying; his movements fluid and precise, devising a melody from thin air. 

Akaashi let himself go, forgetting all his worries, all his heartbreaks, all his grief. The more he played, the closer he felt to Kenma. His heart felt some of the warmth that used to permanently inhabit it.

As the notes flowed across the room, Akaashi closed his eyes. Memories of Kenma poured all over his mind: how cold his hands would be in the middle of the night, and how Akaashi would warm them with his own; how beautiful Kenma looked when he read out loud; how happy they were, how happy Kenma made him.

And he caught himself smiling. He had lived a good life, he had experienced love, true love. And that's a lot more than most people could say.

"Enough".

Akaashi opened his eyes, his fingers coming to a halt. His eyes sought Sugawara's.

"Look at me, Akaashi Keiji." His eyes rushed to meet Sawamura, his breath hitched. Sawamura rose from his seat slowly, his hand untangling from his consort's. "You played beautifully. I could see who you really are." He brought a hand to Akaashi's shoulder. "I shall grant your wish".

Awestruck, Akaashi quickly looked over at Sugawara as if for confirmation. He nodded, his lips stretching into a smile.

Akaashi felt his eyes brimming with tears as he bowed his head down to Sawamura. "Thank you." He smiled, tears running down his cheeks.

Kenma was going to be returned to him. Akaashi felt like his heart was going to burst.

"There is a catch." Sawamura's eyes were serious, despite his smile. "You will walk out of here and Kenma will follow you as a shadow. You mustn't look back. Not even once." The grip on his shoulder tightened. "Is that clear?"

Akaashi nodded.

"Go, human." Sugawara stood next to Sawamura, linking his hand with his. "Live".

Thankful, Akaashi smiled at the couple, waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. He almost felt tempted to look back one last time, but chose against it, remembering Sawamura's stern advice.

He wished for a jacket as he walked through the castle's hallways, the cold seeping into his bones, making him shiver. He prayed to his mother for guidance as he rubbed his arms, hoping the friction would restore some warmth.

His prayers seemed to be answered for he knew where to go: through the long corridor with the creepy statues, left turn after the wall of skulls and out through the big iron gates.

Akaashi fidgeted with his lyre as he boarded the boat to travel across the river of lost dreams. He tried to get his mind off of things as he observed the objects on the stream: canvases, golden sceptres, heaps and heaps of coins, baby clothes. It made him sad.

The journey was short, and soon enough his feet found soil once again. He ignored the lines of wailing people, old and young, and made his way to the hill on the opposite side of the river. No one and no thing tried to stop him, unlike the poor souls that tried to follow him. From what he could tell by their cries, at least. He dared not to look behind.

And he walked. His eyes were trained on the floor ahead of him, his feet avoiding the small rocks that would cause sprained ankles. He felt no presence behind him, but when he was tempted to look he remembered Sawamura's words. Kenma was following him. Or at least his shadow was.

But what if Sawamura was lying? What if he was as cruel as the tales made him be? What if he just told Akaashi that so his hopes would go up, only to be crushed mercilessly, giving him and his consort a nice laugh?

Akaashi could see a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel when he stopped in his tracks. Was Sawamura to be trusted? Was Sugawara?

Were they playing with him, a mere mortal, trying to find some source of entertainment for their boring everlasting lives?

He clenched his fists. He had to see for himself. He would not allow for them to torture him like this. He was a prince, after all!

 _"Trust me"_ Sugawara had said. He had smiled at Akaashi, his eyes holding no sign of any ulterior intentions.

Taking a deep breath, he decided. He would trust the gods to keep their word. He would trust Sugawara Koushi.

He felt more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life as he took those final steps and stepped into the light. The sun brushed over his skin, warming him up after being subjected to Hell's odd coldness.

"Keiji?"

His shoulders tensed. It couldn't be.

"Keiji... is that you?"

Akaashi felt as if his heart was in his hand as he slowly turned around.

Golden hair on fair skin. Luscious pink lips. Cat-like eyes.

" _Kenma_ ".

Kenma's eyes brimmed over with tears, and Akaashi rushed to hold him. To touch him. To feel him.

Kenma. He was here. He was breathing.

He placed kisses all over his face, delighting in the warmth beneath his lips. He was incapable of saying anything else but murmur Kenma's name over and over again.

He was alive.

Home felt like home again.

**Author's Note:**

> i couldnt bring myself to end this badly okay? i am weak.
> 
> also lets play a game: how many greek mythology references can i make in just one fic  
> (answer: way too many)
> 
> u can always hmu on [tumblr](http://yamaguchitaddashi.tumblr.com/) ! uvu


End file.
